


if you said you hate yourself (let me feed you strawberries)

by fromthefire



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Older Peter, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Song fic, broken boys trying their best, editing this after endgame and hhhh, gbye, idk this is bad, peter is like 21 now? so this is 4 years after endgame mayhaps, vent fic, wrote from own experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 02:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18769258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthefire/pseuds/fromthefire
Summary: Two boys that cant take care of themselves take care of each other.orin which Wade is the responsible one.inspired by: salvia palth - teen suicide





	if you said you hate yourself (let me feed you strawberries)

“I’m hating myself today,” Peter murmured one night in the arms of no other than Wade Wilson. Peter felt Wade’s chest rise and fall, listening to his heartbeat which he preferred over his own. Wade was shirtless and Peter found himself tracing his scars; some self-inflicted and some not.  
“Yeah, must be in the air.” A deeper voice muttered back, mind too cloudy to come up with a witty remark. A large hand rested on Peters' waist. Wade would have been concerned over the thinness of the boy's waist, his poor (or lack of) eating habits and even his ribs that began to protrude if it wasn't for the fact that Spidey himself knew of Wade’s problem as well. A silent agreement to not discuss peters eating disorder as long as they did not discuss Wade’s good old self-harming habit. It wasn't a healthy deal, they both would admit, but it worked.

Especially on the nights, Wade woke up without Peter, only to find him by the fridge in a sleepy haze. When Peter’s stomach burned more than usual and his stomach was loudly pleading, he would find something to eat but then fight himself on starting it and when he got through that, he’d struggle to finish it. Which he never did consciously. And Wade never forced him because he knew all too well what it felt like to not be in control of your own body. So he settled for holding the boy in his arms, running his hand through his hair repeatedly as his whispered words of encouragement with the softest voice he could mimic because his soft tone didn't exist until he met Peter. Until, finally, Peter gave in and finished. And then Wade would take him to bed to hold him so closely because damn it, he loved that boy so much and because he couldn't let him in the bathroom after he ate.  
Especially on the nights, Wade woke Peter up with heart-wrenching sobs as he revisited memories of his past, unwillingly. Peter had never dealt with PTSD, only when Tony would lock himself in his room for hours at a time and would return with tear-stained cheeks and a faraway look in his eyes as Steve would guide his own eyes away. And on nights where Peter was woken up, were the worst for Wade. He always tried to be quiet and he always tried to clean his mess, but some nights, he just couldn't. And the small boy could never blame him for that. As always, Peter prepared himself for a sight of drops of blood, blade already is hidden, and Wade staring a hole into a wall and that’s exactly what he was greeted with. Or horrendous sobs that shook wades whole body on the bad, bad nights. Peter would hold Wade’s head in his lap while peppering small kisses all over his face as he gently reminded him where he was, who he’s with, and that whoever was hurting him, would never get to again. After he’d calm down, he would ask Wade whether he could patch himself or if he'd like Peter to do it himself and the answer was always the same; “I could never ask you to do that.”  
••••  
“Let me feed you strawberries,” Wade perked up, walking through the door quite obnoxiously. “Y’know, with chocolate all over them and make the yummy places even more yummy,” Peter let out a quiet laugh but his mind wandered somewhere else. He sat on the floor by the bed, dazed. “An old lady gave me this plate after some dick stole her purse. Invited me in and everything,” He kept speaking. He sat by the boy and wrapped a lazy arm around him. “She was selling her husband’s things.” Wade spoke again. Peter looked up at Wade with an inquisitive look, noticing the tear sliding down his cheek. Wade asked Peter again about the strawberries, knowing he didn’t hear the first time. “And we’ll see if you still hate yourself.” 

And Peter let him feed him strawberries. And Peter still hated himself.

••••

They were tangled up in each other's limbs in Wade’s room. Peter’s bloodshot eyes watched the clock change from 4;00 am to 4;01am. Some grunge band played in the background before Wade became uninterested in the music and more in Peter. He hummed as he began to plant kisses all over the boy. Peter squirmed and his red cheeks were bright.  
“What are you doing?” He asked breathily. Wade shrugged with a kiss to the tip of Peter’s nose.  
“It's been a while. Do you feel up to it?” Peter nodded, sitting up. He looked out the window before shutting it. He watched the people and cars out at this ungodly hour. But he couldn’t judge because if what he was about to do himself. “Yeah?” Wade grinned, and if he had a tail it would sure as hell be wagging.  
“Yeah,” Peter blushed again. He began to take his shirt off before Wade stopped him and brought his hands to his side. Peter raised an eyebrow.  
“Lemme try something, I just need to...” He wiggled himself all the way down on the floor, now with Peter sitting up, Wade mentally evil laughed.  
“Let me eat you out,”  
“Wade, you don’t have to-“  
“For an hour,” Peter let out a loud giggle that caused Wade to pout. A light blush flushed Wade’s cheeks that only Peter would notice. Before he could reply again, Wade got on his knees. “Please, babyyyyyy~” He half pouted, half pleaded. He took Peter’s hand in his. “Is this because I’m depressed?” He placed his hand on top of his lover’s. He tilted his head, his warm smile brightening the room. “Or because you’re depressed?” Wade let out a sad snort. “‘Cause I like giving head.” He grinned goofily. •••• 

“It's not something that can go away, Petey.” Wade whispered to Peter one night. His mouth opened again as if he was about to speak, but he stopped and focused even harder on his wounds. He was changing his bandages on his arms, occasionally wincing but trying to keep quiet from Peter. Peter sat on the counter as he watched him intently.  
“I know,” He whispered back. “Just wish it could.”  
I know.” Was all Wade said back. Peter then furrowed his eyebrows in determination. He felt a pang of guilt. What Peter was doing to himself was his fault, he understood that. He was doing it to ‘look’ better and when the doctor asked, to ‘be healthier ‘. He had control over this problem, he’d like to believe. He’d like to believe he could stop anytime and sit down at a fancy restaurant with his beautiful lover and eat. He knew he couldn’t. But Wade. As much as it tore his heart apart, Wade was much more broken than him. He was dedicated to hurting himself when he’s already hurting and Peter was trying to hurt less. It wasn’t the first time he had watched Wade clean up, but for some reason, this time hurt so much. Peter came back to reality when Wade kicked a piece of glass under the sink. He took a piece from a mirror previously broken by Wade in a desperate attempt to locate his blade. Which neither boy got around to cleaning up all the way. He took it and he did his worst. “What the fuck, Parker.” Wade hissed when Peter inhaled deeply. Peter paid no attention to him, dropping the glass in the sink in shock. His hands were shaking as he watched the blood bubble. “If you still hate yourself, we’ll cut ourselves and swallow chunks of broken glass,” Wade gave him a look of pure disbelief then he shook his head with a mixed look of concern and admiration. He appreciated Peter’s sacrifice, but God, his boyfriend could be so stupid. “I don't care about finishing college,” Peter shrugged, starting into Wade’s eyes. “Alright, tough guy.” Wade stood up and grabbed a hold of Peter’ wrist, all attention on him. Peter pushed him away. “No! You won't let me help you, so go away.” He crossed his legs and turned to face the mirror over the sink.  
“‘Cause you don't know how to help me. Get over here.” Wade turned him around was met with a teary-eyed Peter. Blood had started to seep into his jeans. He used his other hand to wipe away a stray tear. “Hey, hey. What- why are you crying? Did I yell at you- Baby, I’m sorry-” He was cut off by Peter holding his arm out to Wade. Immediately, he took it and began to apply the bandage gentler than he ever would to himself.  
“‘M sorry ... it... it hurts.” Wade nodded and froze when he felt tears welling up, and then he shook his head to stop them from falling. As he finished, he took Peter’s face into his hands and they locked eyes. “I love you, Peter Parker.” He wiped a tear from his red cheeks. “But don’t ever do that again. That’s a bad guy I can’t even kill.” Peter nodded and they both cried again. Peter ate that day with no fight and Wade stayed by his side the entire time. •••• “Let's steal a TV. Biggest one we can find.” An overly excited voice spoke the next morning, Scarred hands brushed soft, brown hair back as they both struggled to wake for the morning. Peter stirred and turned to face Wade, eyes still closed.  
“No, Wade. Aren't you still tired from last night?” Wade's heart flutters at his morning voice, even though he heard it every morning, he felt like he was falling in love again.  
“Alright, fine. We’ll steal the first one we find.” He compromised.  
“Wade, do I even have to say it?” Peter let out a genuine, heartfelt laugh and those were Wade’s favorite kind. Peter worked up the energy to stretch his arms and his eyes fluttered open. Getting a better look at the world, Peter couldn't help but smile at Wade’s heart eyes.  
“You're so beautiful without makeup, dear,” Wade commented and now, Peter rolled his eyes. His hand found his scarred one and they intertwined.  
“I don't wear makeup,”  
“This is you? Everyday? Ugh, you've got to stop being the pretty one or else I have nothing to offer to this relationship.” The smaller boy just hummed in agreement but mostly amusement. A small hand cupped Wade’s cheek, soft lips meeting his. They stayed like this for a while, two lovers in love. But they both knew, it couldn't stay like this. So they basked in the limited happiness. They floated above everyone else, allowing them to carry the weight of the word for a while. Wade stopped kissing back before laying his head down on the pillow. Peter opened his eyes and tilted his head in confusion. “Its gonna be a bad day, huh?” Peter sighed, his cut starting to itch in the most agonizing way. Wade shut his eyes with a frustrated groan. “I’m sorry, fuck, I just- I just remembered-“ Tears threatened to spill and Peter was not going to let that happen. “I’ll buy the biggest TV my credit card allows me to,” He stoked Wade’s cheek with his thumb. “and well watch the food network for the rest of our lives.” Wade smiled at that. Peter squeezed his hand tightly and brought them up to his lips for a small kiss to his knuckles.  
Wade opened his eyes and Peter’s was already there to meet them.


End file.
